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“It would be those sexy little choking noises you make on his cock that flip me over the edge.”
I fucking cry out as I come all over his fingers, the strength of my release fighting to expel him from my pussy, but he just grunts and fights me, continuing to pump and circle until I’m thrashing on the table under him. I’m jelly. A boneless, sobbing, panting mess, yet still Rebel laps at my juices like he can’t bear to leave a drop on his plate. He has me so worked up I could easily come again but thankfully, mercifully, disappointingly he stops.
“Get your sexy fucking ass upstairs and into my bed right now, before I send those pictures and invite whoever responds first to join us.”
Holy fucking shit is that a threat or a promise? If I refuse to move, will he do it? Do I want him to?
I can count on one hand the number of times I’ve had sex since leaving school, and here I am thinking I can take on multiple cocks like a goddamn porn star or something. Such is the power of Rebel’s tongue. He makes me feel invincible.
But as amazing as the fantasy is, I’m definitely not ready for that. And actually, right now, all I want is him.
I manage to pull myself up into a sitting position, taking Rebel’s face between my hands and kissing him deeply. I don’t care that he’s covered in my juices or that I can taste myself on his tongue. I like it.
“I don’t want to go upstairs,” I tell him when I break the kiss.
“Huh? Why not?”
“Because if you did just do that to me in a restaurant, I highly doubt you'd stop to squirrel me away to the car.”
“Too fucking right I wouldn’t. I’d bend you over the table and fuck you from behind, knowing that you could make eye contact with everyone in the room.” His fantasy makes me bolder.
“What are you waiting for then?” I challenge with a cocky grin.
I don’t have to ask twice. It’s like something inside of him snaps – his control I’d guess – and he roughly grabs the top of my arms and yanks me to my feet. I don’t have time to steady myself as he spins me on my feet and slams me back down onto the table, my breasts pressing against the wood almost painfully. He rakes his nails down my back in a move so unexpected that I cry out, only to be silenced by the gasp that leaves me when he spanks my ass. He’s so rough I feel like he could break a bone with the force of his blows alone, but it just turns me on even more. I melt into the table with a groan turning my head to the side so that my cheek rests on the smooth cold wood and I can glance back at him.
He’s hastily undoing his belt and pulling down his jeans, and just as the tip of his cock appears, I quickly shut my eyes, terrified of the reminder of just how freaking huge he is. There’s no way I’m going to be able to take him like this, not when he’s so wild right now.
I expect him to slam right into me, but once again he surprises me. He slowly rubs the tip of his cock against my clit, teasing up and down my slit, using my juices to coat himself. He sighs happily, repeating the action over and over until I relax.
“Good girl,” he whispers, the praise making me flush. “Imagine all those eyes on you. You’d make me so proud wouldn’t you?”
I nod. I can’t help it. With my eyes closed I’m there. Transported back to the decadent eatery from tonight, but this time it’s my guys in the crowd, staring hungrily at me.
“You’re so wet. It’s coating your thighs, little bird. It’s fucking amazing, like you’ve already been pumped full of cum by someone else.”
He lines up at my entrance and slowly pushes just the tip in. Even that small movement makes me hiss at the intrusion. Fuck, he’s so big. I wait for more pain to come but Rebel holds still, waiting for me to relax again. When I do, he pushes a little further and reaches round to caress my clit.
“That’s it, princess. Let me in.” He slaps my ass and somehow the motion does let him sink in a little further.
He groans when he’s fully sheathed inside me and I do the same. I feel so full. Maybe having sex is like riding a bike, but having sex with Rebel...yeah, I definitely forgot what this was like. Delicious pleasure on the point of pain.
“When we share you, properly, I’m going to be the last damn one inside of you, every damn time. This is too good.”
“Reb, stop talking and fuck me,” I complain. He doesn’t need to know that his words alone have me back on the edge.
He presses down on my back with one hand, keeping me locked in place, and with the other he grips my hip and doesn’t disappoint. His thrusts are long and confident, and even though he soon picks up speed, he’s in complete control.
“Open that pretty little mouth of yours nice and wide, little bird. I want to imagine you deep throating a cock while I fuck you.”
Holy fucking fuckety fuck. It’s not even hard to picture, just shadowy body parts with blurred out identities so that I don’t have to choose. I clamp down around him as his dirty words trigger my release and I cry out, shamelessly begging him to fuck me harder, faster.
“You want more?”
I’ll admit, I want to be that snarky girl who snaps at such a lame fucking question. It screams big dick (head) energy at me, and normally I’d cringe. But Rebel has me cock dumbstruck and all I can do is beg for more like a fucking pathetic damsel in an Oliver remake.
There’s something so fucking special about Rebel’s tree trunk cock that he has me pushing back and screaming “Harder! Faster! More!” like a deranged toddler at a play park. He fucking obliges, and even though his cock is shredding me, I’m apparently so high on endorphins that my pussy has told my brain I want it to hurt so bad I bleed for a week.
Fuck, I want them all. I want to wake the whole house and bring them running, lining up to take their turn or impatiently fighting over me until the only thing for it is to have them all at once.
